Game, Set, and Match
by ilovetvalot
Summary: When Rossi is again reprimanded by Strauss, find out a few tidbits regarding their shared history. Written for mummacass. And thanks to Kavi Leighanna and Sienna 27 for their TV Prompt Forum.


**Author's Note: As you all know by now, we are in full swing on the Profiler's Choice Awards hosted on "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". And we'd like to offer an extra incentive to get those nominations rolling in. For the next five people to complete the nomination ballot in its entirety, I would be happy to write a oneshot of your pairing preference (hetero, slash or femslash, doesn't matter!). We have an abundance of incredible stories and authors to choose from this year and we have already received many wonderful nominations. Just to refresh your memory though, tonnie2001969 and myself (ilovetvalot) have removed ourselves from eligibility in the interest of avoiding all appearances of self-promotion. But, we want to make this an incredible experience for each one of you and give you a well-rounded final voting selection to choose from. So let's all put on our reading caps and pick our favorites! **

**Also, don't forget to sign up for our newest challenge at the forum. We're honoring Halloween with our first ever "Candy Land Challenge" and signups run through September 30th! Details are at the forum!**

**We also have a great new interview with another fellow CM author this week. Come and get to know THUNDERBRAT.**

**As always, guys, Happy Reading!**

**Game, Set and Match**

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_**Prompt -One Tree Hill: Hate is Safer than Love**_

Slamming the door to her office as he breezed past her as though he hadn't a care in the world, which, knowing him, he didn't, Erin Strauss barely resisted the urge to trip him and send him flying on his all too handsome face.

But resist she did. Control was the name of the game.

Watching as he nonchalantly took one of the two visitors chairs on the other side of her desk, she watched him lift his arm and pull back his suit coat, glancing at his Rolex. "Care to get this little bitchfest underway, Erin?" David Rossi asked, his eyes meeting hers. "Some of us actually still have lives that revolve outside these hallowed halls."

Walking around her desk, Erin shook her head in disgust. "You really do have no respect for protocol and procedure, do you, David?" she asked coolly, taking her seat behind her desk, knowing that it placed her a few inches higher than him. Thank God for hydraulic lift chairs that fell within the Bureau's budget.

Cocking his head as he shot her an insolent smile, Dave replied snidely, "You didn't have any problem with my lack of respect for the rules twenty years ago, did you, Erin? As I recall, you rather enjoyed breaking the rules with me." Settling in his seat as he crossed one leg carelessly over the other, Dave reminisced, tapping his fingers against the leather armrest, "In fact, there was a time when you led the way in the rule-breaking. I seem to remember one certain time in particular."

"I have no idea what you're referring to," Erin murmured, averting her gaze as she pursed her lips. Leave it to the bastard before her to wave her sometimes questionable past underneath her nose like a red flag. Perhaps it wasn't too late to end this unwise tete-a-tete and send him on his merry way.

"Oh," Dave drawled, his eyes dancing as he watched his sanctified Section Chief's cheeks redden, "let me refresh your memory. Miami...1980. Does that ring any bells for you, Erin?"

"I don't know what you think you're going to accomplish by rehashing ancient history, David," Erin replied tightly, striving to keep her voice soft and modulated. Which was growing harder and harder to accomplish with each passing moment, her memories coming unbidden at his mere words.

Propping his chin on his hand, Dave asked, mock thoughtfully, "Tell me...whatever happened to that spicy dominatrix with a whip in one hand and a feather in the other that left me tied to a chair after a very interesting evening?"

Quickly controlling her twitching lips, Erin schooled her face into an impassive mask. "I've heard she died," she replied, straight faced.

"Did she, now?" Dave chuckled, shaking his head. "She was a feisty one...leaving me tied up like that, holding a parting note that read "That would be game and set, David"."

"They way I remember it," Erin returned blandly, arching one pale brow, "You did get your comeuppance on that so-called dominatrix. Or don't you remember Toledo, 1981?"

"Oh, I remember," Dave nodded with a slow grin. "Do you?"

"Being unchained from a wrought iron bed by Jason Gideon is hard to forget," Erin frowned, rolling her eyes. "And I do believe my memory recalls a note that read something to the effect of "That's game, set, AND match, bitch."

"I always did have a way with words, didn't I?" Dave said with a wink, leaning back into this chair with a satisfied grin.

Nobody's fool, Erin could see she was getting nowhere fast with the most notorious agent ever to grace the Bureau with his presence since Edgar himself. "Let's get to the point, shall we?"

"Please do," Dave stated pleasantly.

"Stop fucking the help, Dave," Erin ordered wearily, leaning forward. "Or at the very least, stop doing it publicly," she grimaced, shoving the glossy 8x10 pictures across the desk to him.

Eyes twinkling as he glanced down at the telling photograph, Dave laughed, "At least I still photograph as well as I did twenty years ago."

Sadly, it was true, Erin thought glancing toward the photographs dispassionately. While she had to work out five days a week at the gym to maintain her figure and had made more than one trip to the plastic surgeon in the last ten years, the bastard across from her looked even better than he had when they'd first met. And for that alone, she could happily hate him. "You find this amusing," she commented evenly.

"Erin, if you'll recall, I find most absurdity amusing. And that picture," Dave noted, nodding toward the photograph, "is fifteen years old."

"Perhaps," Erin muttered. "But it's still going to run in the tabloids this week."

"Well, you always were a publicity hound. This ought to bring it in spades," Rossi shrugged, not bothering to hide his smile.

"What I desire is publicity that glorifies the Bureau, David," Erin bit out, her hands tightening around the edge of the desk. "Not humiliates it."

"Trust me, Erin. I wasn't humiliated that night," he said suggestively, flicking a careless hand toward the photo. "Only satisfied."

Inhaling through her clenched teeth, Strauss surrendered to the urge to throw the indecent man out of her office. "Get out, David, and do us all a favor by staying out of the papers."

Pushing out of his chair, Dave winked at Strauss across the desk. "Always love our little chats, Erin. Let's not go so long between them next time." Pausing as he reached the door, Dave turned to cast Strauss one last smirk. "Oh, and Erin?"

"Yes?" Strauss asked wearily.

"Between you and me, when you're not talking, I really do miss that wicked little thing you do with your tongue. Haven't felt anything like it in the last twenty years," he taunted, his body shaking in an exaggerated shudder.

Eyes widening as she felt her crimson blush deepen, Erin could only point toward the door and demand, "OUT!"

And as his laughter receded as he walked from her office, she could form only one coherent thought as a smile crept over her face.

Damn, she really loved to hate that man. Game, set, and match, indeed!

_**Finis**_

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_**Author's Note 2 - Also guys, please don't forget that if you'd like to advertise the awards on your own profile pages or stories, there's a short blurb on my (ilovetvalot) and Tonnie's (tonnie2001969) profile page for you to copy and paste if you choose! **_

_**This story was written for mummacass, who gave me the prompts (a chair, a feather, and a whip) and the pairing to work with. I'm thinking she might hate me! Just kidding. And another round of thanks to Kavi Leighanna and Sienna 27 for their awesome TV Prompt forum. And once more with feeling, I need to thank my awesome co-author, tonnie2001969 without whom nothing would ever get done.**_

_**Thanks again for reading!**_


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